Click here to listen to Fire Flies
Fire Flies Twilight falls, the whippoorwill calls,
From the woodland comes a cooling breeze,
One that whispers through the tossing trees.
The fireflies light up the approaching dark,
As here and there , they scatter a spark.
Such an enchanting creature,
The glow of their lantern, their best feature.
Its fourth of July every night,
As they lazily dance and continue their flight.
Night time falls, and morning calls.
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Comments about this poem (Click here to listen to Fire Flies by Barbara Jones )
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